There’s a quality about life,
that always refuses to change;
that we’re on a boat drifting,
we are powerless to alter that.

We can not change our course,
in any drastic, meaningful fashion,
never jump out of the boat we’re in,
because we can not swim in this sea.

Many have tried to swim,
and soon become too tired,
and they die horrible ways.

Still a part of me wants,
to feel the cooling water,
and then maybe come back,
but I’ll probably drift,
just like everybody else,
to the end of my days,
accomplishing nothing.

Great beasts swim in the water,
occasionally swallowing a boat,
whole, without chewing at all;
the beasts are cloaked in black.

I look around at the other passengers,
floating in all of the other vessels,
and wonder if any of them understands,
or if I truly am lost on the sea of life.